


Memento Mori

by myeerah



Category: Gabriel Knight
Genre: F/M, Future Fic, Wakes & Funerals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-03
Updated: 2011-08-03
Packaged: 2017-10-22 04:32:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/233784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myeerah/pseuds/myeerah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“G’night, Gran.  Say hi to Mom and Dad for me.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Memento Mori

It was distinctly unfair, Grace thought, that a man pushing forty—from the other side—obviously short on sleep and haggard from grief, could still look so damn good.

They had maintained a careful distance throughout the whole process of Rebecca Knight’s funeral, laying Gabriel’s grandmother to rest alongside her beloved Harrison at last, but Grace thought that she was the only one who’d heard Gabriel whisper, head resting against the tomb face, “G’night, Gran.  Say hi to Mom and Dad for me.”  Of course, given that the rest of the mourners consisted largely of mostly-deaf old ladies, that was pretty much a given.

Still, now that the blue-haired crowd had polished off their fried chicken and potato salad, commiserated loudly and at length over pie and lemonade, patted Gabriel’s hand or cheek or head as if he were still the eight-year-old boy left for his grandmother to raise, and filed out to await their turn with the Reaper, Grace was left alone with an entirely too attractive wreck of a man.  She still didn’t know what to say to him, all these years after having walked away, but, it seemed, he was having the same problem.

“ _God_ , I missed you, Gracie.”

Or not.  That was one of the least likely phrases she’d expected to hear, somewhere between “I’m celibate” and “aliens are living in my credenza.”  That would require him knowing what a credenza was, after all.  The smile crept onto her face in spite of herself.  “It’s good to see you, Gabriel.”

“What have you been up to?  I’d heard that you’d finished school.”

Somehow they’d fallen in step, walking comfortably together to the parking lot.  “If you can call it ‘finished,’ I guess.  One Ph. D. and three Master degrees, all in fields you find incomparably boring.”  She shook her head, then tucked a stray lock of black hair back behind her ear.

“It’s hard to get worked up over ancient history out of musty ol’ books when it’s busy biting you in the ass,” he said, shrugging.

“Maybe if you did some research you could have avoided that debacle in Munich!” Grace snapped back.  They were at her car, his Harley several spaces away from them. 

“Munich?  You’re still mad about Munich?” he scoffed.  “Damn, Grace, I’d understand if you were still pissed at me over Rennes-le-Château, but fuckin’ Munich?  Yeah, I fucked up.  I didn’t pick the right guy in the Guess the Werewolf game, but you fucked up too, so don’t _try_ to bring that up.”  He ran a hand through his hair—as blond as ever, Grace noted—and sighed.  “Christ, Grace.  I just buried the last member of my family.  Can we shelve this for now?”

“I—  Yeah.  Sorry.”  Taking a couple of deep breaths, Grace re-centered herself.  “Gabe.  I’m really sorry about your grandmother.  She was a remarkable woman, and one of the sweetest I’ve ever known.”

A bittersweet smile flickered across his face.  “Yeah.  Gran was somethin’ else.”

They both stood there in the humid spring air, searching for something to say.  Grace struck on a topic first.  “Sooo,” she drawled, “are you still staying at the shop when you’re in town?”

Something flickered behind his eyes before he answered, “Nah.  St. George’s Rare Books bought it in Katrina.  I’m staying at Gran’s while I’m packing it up, her house came out pretty okay.”

What can be said to a litany of loss, both great and small?  “Is Napoleon House still there?” Grace asked.  “I’ll buy you a drink.”

“Heh.  Yeah.  After that we can go to Jackson Square and punch a mime, just for old times’ sake.”  For the first time, his smile looked genuine and unforced.  Grace couldn’t help but respond with a grin of her own.

“So long as nobody’s kidnapping me for a sacrifice, you’re on,” she said.

“Wanna go for a ride?”  Gabriel nodded his head toward his bike.  “I promise to go easy on ya.  Nice and slow,” he leered.

“Not on your life, Knight.  Get your ass in my car.”  Her voice was dry.

“You want _me_ to be seen in a Jetta?  A _Jetta?_   Grace, I am ap _palled_.”  He slid in on the passenger side.

“There’s a first time for everything, then,” she observed, getting in and starting the car.  “Anyway, it’s a rental.”

The old camaraderie lasted through a few beers, a walk through the park—sadly bereft of mime-punching—and fresh beignets from a street vendor.  The powdered sugar was their downfall. 

Grace reached out, unthinking, and brushed the stray white powder from his upper lip.  She froze when he shivered under the intimate touch, and jerked back when he captured her hand in his own.

“Grace.”  His voice was husky and warm as his breath ghosted across her skin.  “Why did you leave me?”  Soft lips caressed her captive fingers.  “I’d just had the most amazing fucking experience of my life, something that really put everything in perspective, and when I came back to tell you what I’d figured out, you were gone.”  A tongue tip swirled lightly against her palm.

“You still don’t understand, do you?”  Slowly, she pulled him down into a kiss, the heat and feel of him evoking memories she’d have preferred to have left buried.  She’d loved him for years, but the one and only time she let him get close she’d woken to an empty bed, just one more notch on the terribly scarred bedpost of his life.  No matter how many times she’d pulled him out of the fire, she was never more than a piece of ass and a mobile library to him.  No matter what realization he may have had, it was too little, too late. 

Drawing back, she looked deep into his bright green eyes and said, “You made your bed, Knight.  Now you have to lie in it.  Don’t blame me because it’s messy.”

She turned from the stricken look on his face and fished in her purse for her keys.  “Do you want a lift back to your bike?”

 He blinked, then shook his head in numb shock.

“Then goodbye, Gabriel.”  Last time she’d had to leave a note, too afraid of losing her nerve to confront him.  This time, she walked away in full knowledge of what she was leaving.  Two hearts cracked, but at least one of them would come out of this okay.  Eventually.


End file.
